


power in the places your hands have been

by SaadieStuff



Series: Malex Week 2020 [2]
Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Happy Ending, M/M, Malex Week 2020, Mentions of Blood/Injury, Post Season 2, it might be a bit upsetting but he's not dead don't worry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-15
Updated: 2020-07-15
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:13:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25287385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaadieStuff/pseuds/SaadieStuff
Summary: The prompt was "tropes", and the trope used here is: Someone nearly dies, leading to love confessions. A classic ;)
Relationships: Michael Guerin/Alex Manes
Series: Malex Week 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1829023
Comments: 41
Kudos: 157





	power in the places your hands have been

**Author's Note:**

> **Warning: mentions of blood/injury.**   
> This also fulfills an anon prompt I got on tumblr (like, over a year ago omg) to use the dialogue that appears in bold!

The large group had split up into pairs to cover more ground faster. It wasn’t supposed to be dangerous. 

But that doesn’t matter as Michael kneels next to Alex, his blood pooling on the ground and already soaking through Michael’s jeans. 

“No, no, no, no,” Michael chants, his hands pressing uselessly against Alex’s wound. “Alex, _please_ , Alex, stay with me. Come on.”

Alex doesn’t respond, his eyes already closed, body limp. 

“Max!” Michael screams for the one person who can fix this. “Max!” But he’s too far away, he won’t hear Michael through the solid walls of the complex. _“Max!”_ Michael screams again, through a flood of tears, but this time, somehow, it’s inside his head. 

“Michael? What the he-- Shit,” Max responds within the mind-scape, and Michael knows Max is already on the move to them.

But Isobel gets there first -- she had been closer. Michael isn’t sure if she’d heard him with her ears or in her mind and he doesn't have the energy to care right now.

“What happened?” she asks in horror.

Michael is a blubbering mess, his nose running like a tap, tears streaming down his face. “It happened so fast, we didn’t see-- I tried to stop--” He halts as Max runs into the room. “Max, _please_. You gotta--”

“I know,” Max says, kneeling across from Michael on the other side of Alex.

“Max...” Isobel warns.

“Oh my god,” someone calls out as they enter the terrible scene. 

Michael doesn’t know who is even there. He’s focused on Max, only vaguely aware that several people have knelt around them. And they’re saying things, doing things; touching him, touching Alex. Trying to stop the bleeding, searching for a pulse. 

If there is one to be found, it’s because Michael is using his powers to pump Alex’s heart. It feels like he’s giving one squeeze for every ten beats of his own for how fast and loud it’s thumping in his chest. 

“Okay, okay,” Max says, psyching himself up.

“He’s not d-dead. Just h-hurt. It’ll be easy, right?” Michael pleads. 

“Max, this will _kill_ you,” Isobel says, fear and pain and apology in her voice. 

_Fuck._ Michael hadn’t even thought-- _Fuck._ “Oh god,” he groans out, “No. No.”

“If he’s not dead, I’ll be fine,” Max snaps. 

“Not with your heart, you won’t!” Liz exclaims, panicked, “It’s even worse than before, you know that!”

Michael can’t blame her. He knows how it feels, because he’s feeling it right now.

If Max can't help, he'll just beg. “Alex, please, I can’t lose you. We haven’t had our time yet,” he sobs, “ _Please_. Alex, Alex.” The universe _owes_ him. 

Michael barely registers the discussion happening overhead. “Max, it might not even work. Flint survived your attempt to-- And your powers haven’t been at full strength since--”

“I know, dammit, I know!” Max says, frustrated, flexing his hands like he's getting ready.

“No,” Michael says, shaking his head, “Max, I can’t lose you both, I can’t--” 

Max takes a deep breath. His face lights with realization. “Maybe-- maybe _you_ can save him.”

“What? How?” Michael asks, eyes going wide. 

“Max,” Isobel says, “He’s never--”

“He’s been growing plants, it’s got to be somehow the same source,” Max reasons, “And he just psychically called me a minute ago for the first time. He can do this.”

“I don’t even know if we have a pulse. If he’s-- if he’s dead then it could kill Michael.”

“I don’t care!” Michael barks over his shoulder at whoever said that. 

“Michael!” Isobel starts and stops as soon as she’s begun. She knows she’s going up against the person in this world who Michael would truly risk everything to save. So instead she kneels closely beside Michael, placing her hands over his. “I’ll try to lend you some power, or something. It always works on T.V.” 

“Me too,” Max says. “Now concentrate.”

Michael shuts his eyes and _tries_. He’s not even sure what he’s supposed to be doing. He grunts. 

“It’s not working. It’s not. I--” Michael says, feeling defeated. How is he exhausted already? 

“Come on Michael, you can do this,” Max urges. “You know how to make things grow. You can make tissue grow.”

“He’s not a fucking plant, Max!” Michael screams, then sobs, leaning down to Alex’s face. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Alex. Alex, I l--”

“Michael!” Max shouts, grabbing him roughly by the shoulders, forcing Michael to look at him. “This isn’t about how much you love him! This is about _power_. You are a god! You have to _go there_.”

“I can’t--”

“You can wield the power of life and death in your hands if you just _take it._ Your anger made you feel safe for a reason. Because it gives you power. Use it! Take it!” Max bellows.

Michael tries again, and feels a surge. It uses everything he has and it’s not enough. He begins to heave, but he’s already blacked out, collapsing forward onto Alex. 

~~~~~~

When Michael wakes, he keeps his eyes closed. He can tell that he’s in a bed of some sort, and from the way it shifts, he’s not alone.

He feels like crap, disoriented and foggy. But he _knows_. 

Alex is dead.

But he can pretend otherwise so long as he feigns unconsciousness. So long as no one is able to look him in the eye and say _I’m so sorry._ The longer he can stave it off the better. 

He wonders just how long he can hold out. 

Judging by how dry and disgusting his mouth is, he’s already been out a few hours. Alex has been dead a few hours. 

He’s sure someone must have thought to put Alex in a pod, right? So one day they can try again, or maybe force Max’s clone into resurrecting him. But the thought of Alex’s _body_ languishing in a pod potentially for _years_ makes him shudder. 

It doesn’t go unnoticed. Suddenly there are gentle fingers creeping into his hair, beginning to stroke his curls. Isobel, he figures. Maybe Maria. 

Michael's tears give him away. 

“Michael?” comes a concerned voice. The bed shifts. 

Michael thinks his ears are ringing. 

“Michael, are you awake?” A long pause. “Take it slow, okay? You might still be nauseous.”

Michael tries to focus on the voice. It sounds like Alex, but he’s just imagining it. More tears. He squeezes his eyes shut tighter, sending tears toppling out. 

“Michael, wake up. Hey. You’re okay.” A thumb brushes the shell of his ear in a way--

Michael’s eyes fly open. “Alex?” he sputters out, throat dry and nearly painful. 

His eyes won’t clear. He rolls onto his back, rubbing them, desperate to see. When he takes his hands away, Alex is leaning over him.

“Hi.”

“We… dead?” Michael croaks.

“No. Nobody's dead,” Alex assures him. 

“Max?”

“Max is fine. Everyone is fine,” Alex smiles and starts to move away. Michael grabs at him and Alex stops. “It’s okay, I was just going to grab some water from the nightstand. And acetone. You sound rough.”

Michael looks at him stunned. 

“Maybe let’s get you sitting up first…?” Alex suggests.

Michael just nods and lets Alex help. Michael practically inhales the fluids, despite Alex’s urging to slow down. 

“Max says you might feel a bit… ragey.”

Michael shakes his head, biting at his quivering lip, and gives Alex no warning before flinging himself into his arms, promptly burying his face into Alex’s neck. 

“Hey, it’s okay. I’m fine.” 

“But I thought-- I thought it didn’t work. I _know_ it didn’t work! I passed out before-- I thought you were dead.”

“ _Oh_ , god, I thought you knew you’d-- Ow!” Alex jerks in Michael’s arms. 

“What’s wrong?” Michael asks, alarmed, carefully releasing Alex.

Alex grimaces and raises his shirt to reveal a bandage. “You didn’t quite finish the job before you passed out. Maybe that’s why you didn’t think you’d succeeded?”

“I’m sorry!”

“No, don't be! You got really close!” Alex says, tone full of praise. 

Michael stares at the bandage. It’s large, but there are a few glowing fingertips sticking out the side. 

“Kyle stitched me up the rest of the way, just to close the skin really. And to disinfect… because you kind of puked on me… Kyle wasn’t too impressed with that. Not exceptionally sterile,” Alex tries for levity. 

Michael looks extremely concerned and not at all amused. 

“I’ll be fine,” Alex assures him again, smiling softly. “You saved me. You were amazing.” He moves to cup Michael’s jaw in his hand, rubbing Michael’s cheek with his thumb, brushing away yet more stray tears. 

“ **You were dead,** ” Michael says weakly. 

“Almost,” Alex says uncertainly. 

“ **Your heart stopped beating.** I was pumping it with my powers.”

“I know. I could, uh, feel you inside me.”

Michael gulps. “But then there was almost no blood left to…”

“Shh. **It’s okay. It’s working now.** ” Alex coaxes Michael back to him, laying Michael’s head on his chest over his heart.

Michael gently wraps his arms around Alex, getting as close as possible without putting pressure on his wound. Alex responds in kind, one hand in Michael’s hair and another rubbing his back, trying to calm him. 

“So... you heard everything while you were...?” Michael asks. 

Alex huffs a laugh. “Yeah. But it wouldn’t matter if I hadn’t. Because I can _feel_ all of it now. This magic handprint is pretty trippy.” 

“Can it be our time now?” Michael blurts out.

“Yes, it can,” Alex murmurs.

Suddenly Michael bolts up and begins to speak very quickly. “It shouldn’t have taken you dying for me to ask. I’ve been trying to get to a place where I can be good for you. I just didn’t know how I would know when I got there? Without just _trying it_ with you. And I was so fucking scared to try it and screw it up because how many chances can we get? But nothing was so scary as feeling you slip away. I don’t want to wait anymore.”

“I don’t want to wait either,” Alex says, starting to lean in.

Just then, the bedroom door flies open. “Isobel!” Max and Maria scold in unison.

“What?” Isobel says defensively.

“You just interrupted a beautiful moment!” Max protests. 

“A beautiful moment we were all eavesdropping on!” Isobel exclaims. 

“Uh, sorry. We heard voices and wanted to check on you,” Liz explains. 

As more of their family floods into the room nattering with relief and excitement, Alex slips his hand into Michael’s, and Michael turns to him. They lock eyes and smile, knowing this time will be different. This time. Their time. 

“Uh, folks, we are felony cock-blocking right now,” Jenna calls out over the chatter. “Move out!”

“Yes, thank you, all of you out of my bedroom! Out of my house!” Alex commands with a hearty laugh. 

Michael smoothly floats a tray of food out of Isobel’s hands towards them. “This can stay,” he says, smirking. 

“Recovering nicely,” Max notes with interest.

“But…” Kyle reluctantly adds, “You _are_ going to have to wait approximately five to seven days because of the--”

“Handprint. I know,” Michael says.

“Well no, I meant Alex’s stitches,” Kyle clarifies. 

“Oh. Uh, sorry about the puke by the way,” Michael says. “Next time I resurrect someone I’ll try to remember to turn my head before I--” 

“Goodbye everyone!” Alex interrupts. 

They do as they’re told, despite expressing loud protest, soon leaving Michael and Alex alone. 

“So this is your bedroom, huh?” Michael says, until now not having taken stock of anything besides _Alex_. 

“Sure is,” Alex says softly. “Stay a while?”

**Author's Note:**

> How many times can I write about Alex being Michael’s first handprint? MANY.   
> (Really did a rush job with this one and it's a day late and I just wanted to be done with it so let me know if you catch any typos, etc.!)


End file.
